Page 19 of His First Time
And at five, I was on my belly, kissing him over my shoulder as he slowly deep-dicked me, rocking in as far as he could go, and then pulling out almost all the way, until my ass clenched around the tip of his cockhead and begged for his return. After discussing it, he’d ditched the condom. I wanted to feel his cum inside me.
The next morning, he fucked me slowly on our sides, his cum the lube we needed. I couldn’t orgasm any more. My body was fucked out and my cock couldn’t even twitch anymore, much less get hard. Just looking at it made me shiver. But he fucked me, and I kissed him through it, holding his head as he pumped me full of his cum again. My ass loved it, and I loved it.
We finally boarded our separate flights thirty-six hours after my noon flight was supposed to take off. All the snow had been cleared from the runways and every other delayed passenger had already been rebooked and sent on their way. We were the last two stragglers from the storm, and the customer service agents eyed us as we each tried to explain how we’d just worked an extra day in the hotel. I don’t think they bought it. I had a hickey on my neck I couldn’t hide.
We said goodbye in the bathroom, kissing in the stall until the final boarding announcement came for my flight. I could barely walk to the gate, and when I sat in first class, I hissed, nearly leaped from my seat. The flight attendant, a slender gay man, eyed me up and down and smirked. He brought me a mini bottle of champagne and two Advil. “If you need anything,” he said, winking. “I’ll be of any service I can be.”
Right before takeoff, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I opened it and smiled.
Luke, I can’t wait to see you again. Thank you for taking a chance on me. I felt it as soon as I saw you that there was something there. I’m glad you did, too.
You bet I did, Tyler, I texted back.And I felt you every way I could. I’ll see you very, very soon.
There were going to be a whole lot more flights in my future. After all, I was a millionaire now. I could afford the jet set life to visit my lover.
As my plane taxied down the runway, I smiled and closed my eyes. Five days until I would fly to his home. Five days until I could get fucked again.
His cum dribbled out of my hole. I felt his wetness in my boxers, a dribble that flowed down my leg and sopped into my suit pants. For a moment, I could smell him.
Only five more days.
* * *
3
You
You have a secret.
You have a secret that burns you up inside. It’s on your mind every hour of every day. You wake up with it. You fall asleep with it. You turn it over in your brain, over and over, polishing your secret like a stone as it tumbles through your life.
Your gaze slides over men in public. You trace the curves of their asses, the width of their shoulders. You steal glimpses at their crotches, hunting for outlines of cock. You jack off to your fantasies, thinking of those cocks you never see, the shoulders you crave, the hips and asses you imagine running your hands over. Your mouth feels empty, and you yearn for something to swallow, to suck. You can’t admit what that something is, but when you jack off, you suck three fingers in your mouth and moan.
You can’t fucking stand it, this secret that burns you up. You don’t know what to do with it. It’s a bridge you can’t cross. On one side, there’s life and everything you know. Your family and their constant questions. When will you bring home a girlfriend? When will you meet someone nice? When will you give us grandchildren? Women who smile at you, coworkers who ask you who you’re seeing, ask if you want to go out and pick up chicks. You play along one time out of ten. Just enough, you think, to keep their suspicions down.
On the other side of the bridge is everything you dream about. Men, and cocks, and you on your knees, taking cock down your throat and up your ass. Worshipping men, all the men you’ve fantasized about, all of them bathing you in their cum as you try to take every single one of them.
But the bridge cannot be crossed. It’s a scrappy thing, made of wood and frayed rope. There’s a fire-breathing dragon beneath the bridge, too. If you try to cross, everything will fall apart. And you might even die.
You’re not in one of those big cities where everything will be all right if you bring home a guy. The people around you aren’t horrible, but if you ended up being “one of those,” there’d be a pretty big pull-back. You’d be an island after a storm, your friends vanishing faster than the storm surge pulling away from the shore. You can count on one hand the number of gay guys you know of, and you can recite for hours the gossip you’ve heard the town say about them.
But you can’tstandit, seeing the other side, craving what you can only ever get a glimpse of. You’re going to go crazy, you know it. But no. Shove it down. Deep down. Push it away.
It’s one of those times you go out with your friends, hang out in the pack and try to pick up girls. Maybe one or two of you is ever successful. The rest of the time, it’s just a long night with the guys, all of them checking out chicks as you’re subtly checking out the rest of the dudes. You are half-hearted with any girl who shows interest in you. Once, you pretended your friend wanted her more so she’d shift her attention. David owes you for that night.
Tonight, there’s a guy at the end of the bar that’s caught your eye. He’s tall and fit, broad-shouldered like you like your men. Narrow hips and a bubble butt. He’s got a quick smile and laughing eyes, and he’s there with friends. He buys them drinks, and you watch the flex of his muscles through the button-down plaid he’s wearing. A shadow reveals a bulge at his crotch.
You swallow.
For the next hour, your gaze keeps tracking back to him. You can’t look away. You’ll jack off to him for months, storing up all these sights, all these images, these stolen moments where you weave a fantasy along. What would it be like to kiss him? To press your body to his? What would it be like to have him over you?
Your eyes track over his body again, up his chest. You freeze.
He’s staring back at you. Brown eyes bore into yours, a stare so fierce and intense you sit back.
Fuck! You’re caught. He caught you looking.
Quick, come up with an excuse. There was a girl behind him, right? You were just looking at her. Flustered, you shift in your seat, swallow. Down your beer and try to listen to your friends and their conversation again. The beer has flowed. You’re all a little loose tonight. You can’t follow Paul and Toby’s nonsense anymore. David is off trying to close the deal with another girl. He’s going to be the lucky one tonight. Paul and Toby have already given up. No one ever expects you to do anything.
